There was a burst of laughter from around the table and Thor frowned. He didn't really care about the thunder concession, but if it were taken from him and given to his wife, the symbolism would be one he'd never live down. "All right," he growled. "Where is this mortal?" "Here," Kevan said, standing up. He had expected to be nervous but the mead had bolstered his courage. "But there's more to the challenge. If you fail to answer two of the three riddles then I get to take Thrud away with me." "You mean you want to marry her?" Thor asked, scowling. "No," Kevan said. The sudden silence that followed made his ears burn, but he was afraid to explain more fully. If Thor knew that there was a chance that Alviss might finally triumph over him, there was a possibility he would brook his father's anger. So Kevan ignored the knowing glances and kept quiet. "That's the trouble with you mortals," grumbled Thor. He cast a quick glance at his father and decided not to risk arguing about it. "All right, I agree," he said reluctantly. "What do you pay, if I answer the riddles?" Kevan was taken aback. "I--I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "Well, think about it," Thor snapped. "I have it. If I answer your riddles, you'll stay here as my personal goatherd." * * * * * Kevan had gone too far to back down, so he nodded. He thought, a little ruefully, that the next job of Troubleshooters, Inc. might be to rescue a former agent turned goatherd. It also occurred to him that perhaps Brian Shanachie didn't bother rescuing agents, but he pushed the thought away. "Okay," he said, "here is my first riddle." He'd finally decided on a first riddle which he suspected was too old, but it was the weakest of his three and he wanted to get it over with. He cleared his throat and began: "What we caught, we left behind; what we brought, we cannot find." Thor's expression of worry vanished and he burst out laughing. "I learned that one so long ago," he roared, "that when I first knew it, it went: Hos' helomen lipometha, Hos' ouk helomen pherometha. The answer is a flea." Kevan MacGreene nodded, feeling the first pangs of fear. It suddenly dawned on him that he had little business pitting wits with a god--even a discarded one--and he could only hope that his next two riddles were new enough. In terms of mortal life they too were old; it was so difficult to tell what was new for a god. "Here is my second riddle," he said nervously. "I have an apple I can't cut, a blanket I can't fold, and so much money I can't count it." If Thor guessed this one, he was finished. There was a long silence. Kevan sneaked a glance at Odin and the older god's puzzled expression gave him more confidence than Thor's frown. The silence stretched into minutes. "Enough of this," shouted Odin. "Give up, you idiot, so he can tell us the answer." "All right," Thor said sullenly. "I give up."